Ferdinand made his way, shaky and unsteady, towards the man at the helm. The ship threw him to the ground, nearly sending him overboard. Grasping the only barrier between him and the open sea, through heavy and labored breaths he screamed, "Captain! Captain Cosa I-"
"Land! Straight ahead!" A voice shouted with a sudden clarity and volume from the crow's nest. They turned to face the direction he was pointing. Looming before the nearly destroyed, yet miraculously still moving ship was an island. The horizon before them hidden behind green and brown mountains rising from the water and surrounded by receding tan sands. The beach was littered with dozens of little palms and cut into a dense wall of green. The storm, no one noticed, seemed to subside all at once, as if a force of power had stripped away the strength of the sea. The sky was pierced with a blinding light; the sun they thought had abandoned them. It was as if the world had been reborn and they were the first to see it.
The captain, pulling himself from the shared dream, began shouting orders to his remaining crew. Water poured from holes in the hull onto the warm sand beneath it. An anchor was lowered, a formality at this point, and the crew docked on the beach. He pulled a scroll out of his jacket, dry save for a corner. Flat on the sand, it revealed the world. From the west islands to the frozen north. Across the eastern seas and down to the icy south. He checked the map, mumbling a curse to the sea and storm.
"Captain, I demand to know where we are!" Ferdinand said, now dressed in ruffled and royal white and red. Pins of gold reflected the light of his jacket. The captain simply nodded his head and rolled the map back into his jacket.
"Lost."
"Lost?" He asked, unsure if what he just heard was truly what the captain said. He stood silent, waiting for the captain's explanation. The winds blew through the trees and the waves lapped the bech. Neither man moved or made even the slightest noise. "Ahem," Ferdinand finally spoke, "Captain Cosa, do you mean to tell me you don't know where we are?"
"W-wait a minute... we're lost?," Christof cried bounding across the sand from the ship. His rapier, handle wrapped in beautiful red and yellow, waving behind him, stuck securely in it's sheath at his side, "Sir, are you sure we're lost?"
"Captain Cosa, I'll have you kno-" Ferdinand began, ignoring Christof.
"We're lost and there's nothin' ye nor yer royal navy can do about it so sit tight." He waved a few of his crew over, "Head count boys, see how many are lost." The men ran off back onto the ship and recovered everyone they could.
25 of them stood there, not including Captain Cosa, Ferdinand, and Christof. 25 tall, sea-worthy men gathered in the sand.
Three had lost their lives. A short moment of silence was held in memorial.
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